Who Killed Charmian Karslake? Read Online Free Page A

Karslake nor the Moretons were communicative, and public curiosity went unsatisfied.
    Today, however, there was no cheerful “House Full” placard hung out at the Golden Theatre. Instead, all inside was darkness and gloom. In front of the box-office there were posters with black borders, men were propping up similar ones outside the theatre – all bore the same inscription:
    â€œOwing to the sudden death of Miss Charmian Karslake this theatre is closed until further notice. Money for tickets already booked will be refunded, and should be applied for at the box-office.”
    â€œThe sudden death of Miss Charmian Karslake.” People stared, rubbed their eyes and stared again.
    It was only this morning that those of them who took in the “Morning Crier,” or who looked at society paragraphs in the other papers, had read of her being present at the ball at Hepton Abbey, had revelled in the description of her gown of gold tissue, her wonderful jewel, the great sapphire ball – her mascot. And now it was impossible that she, brilliant, vivid Charmian Karslake should be dead!
    People gathered in groups, the groups coalesced, became one great crowd that blocked the pavement in front of the Golden Theatre, and collected again as soon as it was disposed of by the police.
    At last a slim, slight man, quite easily recognizable by the force as a detective in plain clothes, unobtrusively passed through the crowd.
    Nearly opposite the Golden Theatre he knocked up against a man coming from the opposite direction, and stopped in surprise.
    â€œHarbord! I was going to wire you. I thought you were in Derbyshire.”
    â€œSo I was this morning,” Harbord answered, “but matters have petered out there and I was anxious to report as soon as I could.”
    â€œGood for you!” Inspector Stoddart said approvingly. “Now have you any arrangement to make? I leave St. Pancras by the 5.15.”
    Harbord shook his head. “My people do not expect me back to-day as a matter of fact. So I am an absolutely free lance.”
    â€œSo much the better,” Stoddart said heartily, pushing his way out of the crowd.
    He hailed a passing taxi, telling the man to drive to New Scotland Yard and directed Harbord to get in with him. Then, when they had settled themselves, he looked at the young man.
    â€œYou saw that crowd before the Golden Theatre. Do you know what has brought them together?”
    Harbord shook his head. “Something about Charmian Karslake, I suppose. She seems to have put it over the man in the street. There is always some new excitement.”
    â€œYes,” the inspector said grimly. “This time it is her death; that’s all!”
    â€œHer death!” Harbord stared at him. “Why, just now in the train I heard two women talking of some grand ball Charmian Karslake was at last night, and the wonderful gown she was wearing. And some sapphire mascot!”
    â€œQuite!” The inspector nodded. “She danced through the evening and exhibited her gold gown and her mascot and then – she went up to her room to meet her death.”
    â€œBut how?” Harbord asked.
    â€œShe was shot through the heart; at close quarters too,” the inspector told him.
    Hardened though he was to the ways of criminals, Harbord turned distinctly paler. “By whom?”
    â€œAh! That,” the inspector said gloomily, “is what you and I are going to catch the next train to Hepton in Meadshire to find out.”
    Harbord gave a slight start. “You mean –?”
    â€œThe local police have appealed to Scotland Yard and I have been placed in charge of the case, and, as, I told you, I am off at once. You will come with me. I would rather have you than any three other members of the C.I.D. Now we have just half an hour before we start. I can tell you the main facts of the case. I dare say the evening papers will enlighten us further as we go